


The Talk to Me project: Deleted Flashback #3

by destielpasta, mtothedestiel



Series: The Talk to Me Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Angels are Dicks, Backstory, Flashbacks, Gen, Heaven, Original Character(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 15:51:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1007245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/destielpasta/pseuds/destielpasta, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mtothedestiel/pseuds/mtothedestiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Egypt: 1584 B.C.</p><p>Castiel must either be killed or somehow washed clean, and Naomi has just the way to do it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Talk to Me project: Deleted Flashback #3

**Author's Note:**

> This is the third and final deleted scene from The Talk to Me Project. It could stand alone, but because it is told from the point of view of one of our original characters (Ambriel), we kept it under the blanket. We really loved developing Ambriel's character as the story progressed and we hope this gives some insight as to why she helped Castiel.

**Egypt, 1584 B.C.**

Ambriel: the messenger of God. From the moment her grace manifested in the host of heaven’s angels, this had been her purpose. Angels gave her information and expected her to deliver it with perfect accuracy, stored in a memory so perfect it could have only come from God. Of course, her job would be completely unnecessary if they were in heaven. But while on earth, angel radio was easily manipulated and unreliable.

That’s where she came in.

This time around, the Egyptians caused the trouble. For whatever reason, God favored a select group of people whom the Egyptians had trapped in slavery, ordering the dissemination of ten plagues to be brought down on the oppressors, until they loosened their hold on his chosen people.

Well, her orders came from Raphael, but the original order must have been from God.

Shaking those thoughts from her mind, she flew to one of the field generals. Castiel knew this was her first time in a human vessel, and had shown her compassion when she often stumbled or overshot her direction.  Eager to prove herself capable, however, she flew faster and kept a sharp eye out for her destination.

She arrived at their base while Castiel was consulting with his main lieutenants. She stood in the shadows, waiting to be acknowledged. Her vessel was one of a small slave child, easily hidden. Castiel and his officers had chosen the cloaking of middle-aged Egyptian women, often overlooked and always underestimated.

Castiel sent the other angels away and turned to her. “News?” He asked curtly.

She bowed her head. “Raphael is pleased with the dust storm.”

He pursed his lips, forming a thin line. “His compliments are appreciated. Any further orders?” He walked over to a clay bowl, pouring water over his dust-caked hands. Though his vessel was not old, his forehead was wrinkled in worry.

“Yes sir.” He turned toward her, expectant. “Tonight, all first-born sons in houses not blessed with lamb’s blood must be slaughtered, by the will of God.”

Castiel dropped the jug, the red clay shattering into three jaggied pieces. Ambriel furrowed her brow; she had never seen a senior angel make such a human mistake.

She stooped down to clear the mess. “Let me get that sir—“

Castiel waved a hand and cleared his throat, the basin instantly returning to its whole state. “It’s no matter. I do apologize, Ambriel. Sometimes my vessel still exhibits the symptoms of weak musculature.”

She inclined her head. “No apologies necessary, sir.”

He dried his hands on his robes, avoiding her eyes. “Yes… Tell Raphael that I receive his revelation. You are dismissed.”

Ambriel nodded and felt the wind in her wings once more.

* * *

 

Ambriel soared above earth for a time after delivering her message. She had no further orders and was free to roam as long as her ears remained open for information. She flew above the deserts, the great evergreen forests, and ragged mountainous regions until she felt drunk off of the all the beauty earth had to offer. It couldn’t hold a candle to the pristine holiness of heaven, but her father definitely knew what he was doing when he created paradise for his humans. If only the humans would stop killing each other over it.

_Ambriel. Come here._

She found herself at the feet of the archangel in an instant, her small true-form dwarfed by the magnitude of his grace. She couldn’t help but tremble before him, the light of his essence burning hot. His orders came without greeting or ceremony.

_Tell Naomi that Castiel has been compromised and must be eliminated. She must deploy as soon as possible._

She froze. Castiel? The general with the kind eyes and soft voice that couldn’t possibly—

_DO YOU DOUBT YOUR ORDERS?_

His grace bore down on her like an angered sun, searing into her. The pain was white hot and so _clean_. She screamed her protest and denial of doubt. The pain stopped instantly, leaving her raw, but still whole.

The archangel towered above her once more, his voice soft and low.

_Good. Now go do as you’re told._

* * *

 

Naomi’s corner of heaven stood unknown to most angels, except messengers like Ambriel. She detested the sterile feeling of it, not to mention the haughtiness of the angels that served there. But as the messenger of heaven, she had to know everything, even the… unsavory sectors.

Naomi sat behind her desk within her glass office. Ambriel entered slowly. The bureaucratic angel smiled.

“To what do I owe the pleasure, dear Ambriel?”

A shiver ran down Ambriel’s spine at Naomi’s honey-sweet voice. “Orders from Raphael. About the ground General Castiel.”

Naomi cocked her head slightly. “Go on.”

Ambriel swallowed the lump in her throat. “He has been compromised and must be… eliminated.”

The other angel smirked. “I see. Well, I wish I could say I was surprised.”

Ambriel knew she should leave; her duty was done. But something pricked at her grace. Pity? Curiosity? Loyalty? “Forgive me, Naomi, but why are you not surprised?”

Naomi raised her perfectly manicured eyebrows. “I’m shocked you haven’t heard yet, as the messenger of God you surely should… Well I suppose your free time is your own….” Naomi stood up from behind her desk, drawing various sigils in the air, calling her team. “Castiel has disobeyed orders by refusing to kill the Egyptian newborns. He’s an abomination.”

Ambriel felt bile rise in her throat at the word _abomination._ Maybe that could be used for something filthy, or evil, but Castiel? The kind angel with the soft eyes that seemed more at home within a vessel than among the host of heaven?

“There must be some mistake. Castiel… he’s an excellent soldier.” She stuttered out, the words echoing in the hollow chamber.

Naomi chuckled. “Castiel? Yes, I suppose he is a good soldier. But he has flaws that will cost us this planet.”

Ambriel stepped forward. “But there must be another way—surely _killing_ him isn’t the only solution.”

“Are you _questioning_ your orders, sister?”

Ambriel threw up her hands. “No! The order comes from God and is sacred. I apologize sister, please forgive me.” Her voice trembled.

Rather than righteous anger, Naomi only looked curious, tapping her perfectly manicured finger against her milk-white face. “Not necessary, young one. But you do raise an interesting notion… and Castiel is a good soldier… he’d be a perfect trial…” Naomi pondered.

“Sister?”

Naomi turned to Ambriel and smiled. “You’ll get your wish, Ambriel. It just so happens that I have a new… cleansing method I’ve wanted to try for the _longest_ time.”

* * *

 

Naomi made her watch.

At first she thought the worst part was seeing Castiel ripped from his garrison and stripped of his vessel, screaming and spewing blasphemy about “sacred human life” and “God’s true will.” His eyes were fiery with righteousness and only a little hurt when he spotted Ambriel in the crowd. It made her grace shake at its core.

Then she thought nothing could be worse than watching Castiel’s grace stripped to its foundations and _washed_ over and over again in some sort of astringent light conjured by Naomi. She would hear his screams forever.

Nothing could prepare her for the drilling. The final step in making Castiel fit for duty again, stripping him down to his factory settings. Easily malleable, easily told what to do.

When he awoke, she didn’t recognize him.

“Why are you alive?” Naomi asked him, clipboard in hand.

 _Because God commanded it._ He answered without hesitation.

Naomi only laughed as Ambriel stumbled away, her own screams piercing heaven’s never-ending skies.


End file.
